


A fine line

by AnotherLoser



Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Hallucinations, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Mental Patient AU but not really, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, explanation comes later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-05 09:39:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14615511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnotherLoser/pseuds/AnotherLoser
Summary: 'Are you sure that’s the answer?'He bites the inside of his cheek, reading back over the question and the answer he filled out.  It was right, he was sure of it.'Hope you’re not wrong.'He wasn’t.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There’s probably typos whoops. And I do plan to continue this I’m just not sure when.

_'Are you sure that’s the answer?'_  
He bites the inside of his cheek, reading back over the question and the answer he filled out. It was right, he was sure of it.  
_'Hope you’re not wrong.'_  
He wasn’t.

A folded piece of paper is slid onto his shoulder from behind- Ned passing a note. Peter flinches regardless. He doesn’t try to look at his friend but he knows there will be a sympathetic expression there as he takes the note.

_You okay?  
Flash keeps staring at you, I think he’s gonna do something later_

Clearly neither of them were actually paying attention to the teacher. Peter was doing what he usually did in class; starting on the last class’s homework immediately so he would have as little to do at home as possible. He doesn’t know what Ned’s excuse was, but he didn’t judge his friend’s study habits. He was probably just bored.

Peter folds the note back up and signs a check mark on top of it, sliding it to the back corner of his desk so that Ned could see it.

 _'Who’s Flash? What do you think he’ll do?'_  
Nothing big. He never does. Mean names, jumping out to scare him, pulling pants down, shoving into lockers, but it wasn’t as if he’s ever punched Peter in the face. It didn’t help his anxiety, but it could be worse. For now Peter focuses on the next question on his desk.

At lunch it’s far from quiet. As used to it as Peter was, that didn’t mean he was comfortable. Chatter fills the cafeteria, the sound of metal spoons scooping up food from metal trays in the line, chewing at the tables and bags and other small packages being rippped open. It’s loud and obnoxious and the first time Peter was in here after getting his powers Ned had to half-carry him to the nurse, who then would send him home once he’d calmed down. He wonders still if they would have done that for any other student or if it was only because of Peter’s history.

He wasn’t really complaining though.

Skipping the line as usual, Peter makes a B-line for a table near the back to wait for Ned and possibly Michelle. She didn’t usually sit with them exactly, but in the same area by herself, and close enough that she could chime in if she felt like it. Peter thought she was pretty funny once he got the hang of identifying her sarcastic flat voice as opposed to her genuinely serious flat voice. Overall he didn’t mind her, and neither did Ned seem to. The only problem was that she asked more question than Ned did. She let things go easily, sure, but Peter always felt like she was noting his every reaction.

He doesn’t like feeling under a microscope like that, not when he always feels like he was being watched anyway. Michelle was nice, she just made Peter uncomfortable more often than not, though he wished she didn't.

She eyes him suspiciously when she sits down at the end of the long table. Peter waves and offers a slight smile. Michelle does not return the gesture. He's kind of used to that too. Peter slips his earbuds in and settles down in his seat. The end of the chord is plugged into an ancient-by-now iPod in his jacket pocket but no sound plays. One of the flaws to his heightened senses was just how much he took in; it had it's perks, plenty of benefits with what he's doing with his life, but unfortunately those benefits only applied in certain situations. During the day as no more than teenage Peter Parker, it was obnoxious. He hears too much. Sees too much. Even smells more than he used to and no matter how he was in fact adjusting to it these past few months, it was easier to go about his day with headphones or sunglasses.

He waits like that for Ned - with headphones, not sunglasses - quiet and idle in the meantime. Peter relaxes slightly that way, tapping his fingers lightly on his thighs. The noise was a bit better, and he can see that Michelle's attention was not on him anymore. The feeling of having eyes on him rarely leaves and lingers now too but that was hardly uncommon. He was okay.

"Hey." Ned announces before he even sits down, warning his jumpy friend of his presence thoughtfully. Peter liked Ned for a number of reasons, one of which being the fact that he paid attention to what Peter did and didn't like even if he did forget sometimes. He knew what Peter's favorite ice cream was within the first week of knowing each other and every time since that they went for dessert he remembered. He knew what movies Peter liked and what kinds made him uncomfortable in general. It took him some time to learn just how intensely Peter avoided touch and how bad he felt being startled, but he did figure it out and learn how to help. Eventually he even stopped questioning Peter's study methods because Peter doesn't like to talk about it much.

When he first started hanging out with Ned, he used to ask how he got to be so good with his scientific subjects when he was homeschooled, what the method was. Sometimes as a joke sometimes not. Peter always shrugged, gave the same answer that he just liked the subjects. He liked how science let him detach from his life and think about something completely objective instead.

When it came to touch, it was disgusting. Peter has been through enough programs and offices to have learned how to control himself, even hide his reactions if it wasn't appropriate at the moment. Needless to say any given therapist wouldn't recommend hiding emotions or bottling things up, but that was Peter's business. The point was, he wasn't slapping hands away in public if someone nudged his shoulder or anything so minor but that didn't mean he didn't want to more often than not.

Enough times of spooking Peter out of his thoughts and Ned outright asked if he had any major boundaries, if he was okay, and with a hesitant but honest answer they found another balance to their friendship. It would be a lie to say he wasn't at least somewhat guilty for it; after all, Ned was constantly adapting to Peter while hardly asking for anything in return. It didn't seem fair. He also wasn't about to turn friendship away because he felt bad about how he needed it to be though.

"Hey." popping his earbuds out again, Peter starts wrapping the chords around the iPod to keep them from being tangled when he pockets it all again.  
"You wanna go somewhere after school today?"  
A shrug. "Sure." They couldn't afford anything besides the occasional lunch out at best. Ned had a better allowance than Peter but not by much and neither of them had jobs. They were only both fifteen and all that allowed for them so far was helping neighbors with their computer troubles from time to time. Typically their afternoons out together were spent wandering near aimless, mostly focussed on talking.

Peter considers getting his books out, finishing what homework he had still during the lunch hour. He didn't like eating in front of people, generally avoided it in fact and so his lunch was always packed and either eaten hurriedly in a bathroom right before his next class, or even saved until after school altogether. He always had the time free then, but that didn't mean he always felt like it.

 _'What a stupid idea.'_  
Peter blinks. Body still, eyes suddenly flickering around in as subtle of a search as he could conduct. He likely wouldn't find it anyway- he only did about half of the time. Spiders were generally tiny creatures that lived in corners, perhaps hiding on the underside of the table today.

_'Why bring food if you aren't going to eat it?'_ Or maybe it was in his backpack. On it? In it? Either wasn't good. He had no problem with the arachnids, he never really did even before this but ever since they started talking to him it's become a pain whenever they were around. He couldn't reply- couldn't even react. Couldn't do anything he would be asked to explain and that ruled out just about anything in school because there was no reason for him to whisper seemingly to himself in the middle of class, even during lunch, and suddenly digging through his bag for a bug now would only look manic.

"You okay there, Parker?" Michelle asks, pulling him from his bitter little bubble of thought. He gives a curious hum, gaze falling onto his classmate now as she addresses him. "I asked if you're okay. Your eyes got all beady. It's creepy." Ned snorts beside him but doesn't ay anything.  
"I'm good."  
_'You're stupid. She can see you're lying.'_  
"Really."

[...]

He finds the spider later, after Flash throws water in his face and trips him. Recovering from the fall he rises slowly, and in adjusting his bag spots the little creature hanging off the side of it from a string of web. Peter sighs then, gently scooping it up.

 _'Weak.'_  
"I could just leave you to get stepped on.." Peter just barely whispers under his breath, beginning to walk on anyway.  
_'Weak weak weak- you and him.'_ He shakes his head. _'He's a damn coward. You should fight back.'_ He couldn't. Even having the ability now, he couldn't or else reveal that something was different with Peter and raise questions.

 _'You could bite his head off. You should.'_  
Gross. Peter didn't even want to think about what a headless body would look like. He also, unlike a spider, would have to slowly bite through his neck to make that work instead of just chomping down- which was even grosser to consider. He should throw this spider outside, it was giving him bad feelings.

May would be so worried if she knew. That was hardly any different than before though. She's always had a lot of reason to worry about him, especially since Ben's death. It was hard after all they've been through. Harder than was right. If Peter could fix things for her, he would. If he could trade his life for Ben's--

That was why she couldn't know about anything going on with him. Not the powers, not Spider-Man, not the talking to bugs. None of it. It was the only method he had of protecting her.

When he gets home after a few hours with Ned and a little dumpster diving, Peter is in a better place of mind. He smiles a little when walking in and even hums as he greets his aunt on her day off. And then he looks at her and hears a voice he’s only ever heard on TV before,

”Mr. Parker.”


	2. Chapter 2

It feels like a trick. May was there, but it couldn’t be real. Perhaps he’d conjured her up too- but it all felt so real. _It always did, that means nothing._

It felt real. It sounded real. Tony Stark is in his apartment- in his room, unraveling his lies and talking to him about Spider-Man. Peter responds as best as he can with hope that he wasn't making things up but he avoids the man’s eyes, waiting for that inevitable moment where he disappears and Peter has to accept that he was talking to himself this whole time. As far as hallucinations go, this one might be an upgrade from what he's experienced before. They normally don't knock things out of his ceiling but there was a first time for everything, chances were his suit was still in it's hiding spot and he jumped to hide it for no reason. Peter could analyze later what the trigger might be for such a step. For now he voices his complaint, the most ambiguous thing he's said this entire time.

"I can't believe this. Y'know I was actually having a really good day, Mr. Stark." The first all week. "Didn't miss my train, this perfectly good dvd player was just sitting there an-" Another glance over. Tony had his suit. He was looking at Peter's suit in his hands- or neither were real and he needed to re-think his late night video watching habits if he was conjuring up Tony Stark in the middle of the day. "Algebra test. Nailed it."

"Who else knows? Anybody?"  
"Nobody." Quite frankly Peter isn’t sure that May would survive it. Not after losing him as long as she did, watching him struggling to be put back together and now losing Ben so recently- finding out that Peter was risking his life every day to fight crime, she might lose it herself and if she did then Peter didn’t know if he could live with that.

They talk some more. Tony changes the subject, messes with the suit again. Soon enough they both sit and comes the question, “why are you doing this?” And Peter is all but positive it was in his head. He deflates with the question, but answers regardless. Head down, save for a few glances, and fingers picking at his jeans, he tries to explain. It's slightly off topic at first, but he gets a point across to Tony. Then he starts again and better orients himself.  
"Look, when you can do the things that I can, and you don't, and then the bad things happen... They happen because of you." And he wouldn’t let it happen to anyone else. Peter has hurt enough to know what one accident could do to someone. What collective small incidents could do. He had the chance to help now, and it wouldn’t be wasted. Peter had the ability to stand in between a death, a trauma, the last thing to push someone over the edge. The one time he didn’t he lost his uncle. This is the lesson he was taught then, and it felt only fitting for his hallucination to remind him.

Then a hand lands on his shoulder. Sitting across from Tony was one thing, even next to him when he moved closer. Feeling the weight of a hand on him, that was different. Not impossible, his mind was great at playing tricks on him, but suddenly confusion and hope were being stirred again. His hearts beats a little faster like it did when he first spotted the engineer on his sofa. He invites Peter to Germany. Peter declines hesitantly, because he wasn’t about to get on a plane under the guidance of a delusion- and he did have homework he’s been neglecting.

Five minutes later he was back in the living room with May while she and Tony discuss the details of how soon Peter could be on the plane, for how long he’d be gone, and what they’d be doing. It takes until then for reality to sink in, and he’s still processing when Tony leaves.

“Peter?” He blinks. “You okay?”  
“Yeah- yeah I’m just...” he waves a hand vaguely. “processing.” May scoots closer to him on the couch and starts to rub his back.  
“Didn’t know it would include all this, huh?”  
“Hm?” Right, the grant they were pretending he applied for. The internship they were pretending he had. “Uh- yeah. Yeah it just- I didn’t really think I’d get it, never mind a visit from him in person..”  
“Is that why you didn’t tell me?” She sounds worried. Peter spares a cautious glance and finds her brows drawn together but a kind smile still on her face. “Peter, you study at a college level. And after all that time you couldn’t go to school that’s- that’s just even more incredible.”

It was a coping mechanism his therapist did not recommend entirely for a few years. Certainly better than a lot of other things he could have done, even as a child, and it’s paid off now. Peter read, studied, watched whatever videos he could find on topics that interested him at the library. Ben and May did their best to homeschool him and help him learn but eventually Peter surpassed what they could teach them and the library card was the best thing that they could have given him. He had a knack for studies; for computers and science and chemistry. He did good with analytical subjects like that. History not so much, but he maintains decent grades even in that area now that he’s back in school.

After enough seconds pass in silence, Peter’s head still tilted down at his hands in his lap, May asks, “Does he know? I don’t know how much of a background check he did on you for this- he didn’t mention it, I mean.”  
Peter shrugs. “I don’t know. He didn’t bring it up with me either so.. maybe.”  
Another beat passes. “I think you should tell him.”

Brown eyes shoot wide open, fidgeting hands going still. She’s quick to backtrack and explain, surely knowing that Peter doesn’t want to hear it.  
“Not the details, not the history, that is your business, Peter. But if something goes wrong, if you have a panic on the plane or lose your medication or something- I really think someone there should know so that they can help you properly.”

She means well. He knows that she does but his control over his emotions came and went far too often. “Then I’ll tell them if it happens.” He says a bit too quickly, a bit too harsh. May let’s it go.

He films with his phone when he leaves. Documents all of this wild yet perfectly real journey. From the car to the plane to the hotel, and even onto the battle field and for once not one bit of it could be doubted.

Peter's visual hallucinations weren't constant to begin with. More often than not they were mundane when they did occur, things like a conversation that didn't really happen, or something in the distance that wasn't really there. He could live with them how he normally experienced them. Seeing Tony in his apartment was hard to believe as reality, but even in the moment he had wondered how such a step backwards would have come to be. Talking with May began to truly cement it. By the time he was getting into the car sent for him, he knew that everything following had to be true, and if it wasn't then he'd have video evidence of just how much was.

He’s unashamed in his excitement after that, talking to the camera and jumping around his room. It was something good, and exciting, and adventurous. Peter can feel Happy judging him. The man doesn't try to hide it at all, he finds Peter obnoxious. For once he's too happy to care and it only gets better; Tony gives him a new suit, a game plan. It's the most incredible thing he's ever experienced before he even gets on the battlefield.

It would be a lie to say there was no fear involved. Even if Peter took his medication anymore, it didn't work with his new metabolism. His anxiety was free to run wild, all he was told about the situation at hand was that Captain America thought he was right but he wasn't, which meant he and the people following him were dangerous. Tony tells him to be careful because of it, and to go for the legs, but that no one was trying to kill anybody. It was scary but Peter wasn't about to let that hold him back. Not for this.

Admittedly, he isn't positive that he was in the moment when things take off. Everything moves so quickly that no matter how calm and collected he tries to be, Peter can't shut up. Can't stop moving. The new suit is even better than his old one at filtering all the sights and sounds around him though. It helps him focus, it does. Every minute that goes by, the more focused he feels. It's always been like that when he put on a mask; Spider-Man made him feel in control. Stable.

It's all incredible from the man with the metal arm to Captain America complimenting him after dropping god knows what on his head- to the tiny man turning into a giant man.

All too soon it ends though. Everything stops when he's flung into the crates. His body aches all over but it isn't that bad. Mostly it's his head- everything goes dark for a split second, only for a blink after impact, and then he didn’t seem to be thinking of anything at all. He feels the ground beneath him, concrete warmed by the sun shining on it. There were a few broken pieces of wood underneath his body but nothing was cutting him. Stabbing him. It wasn’t, was it? He can’t hear anything. Maybe it was all a dream after all.

Real or not, he's still being attacked. As soon as something touches him he knows, turning over and raising both arms to defend himself. He's dizzy from the sudden movement, one of his eyes is uncovered from the mask and taking in all of the light in the sky makes him squint, but he knows the feeling of cold metal around his wrists. His heart hammers in his chest, pulse racing and vision tunneling.

_"-ame side. Guess who-"_

Peter jerks back, tearing his arms free and rolling over his shoulder into a crouch, ready to fight.

His spidey sense was both a blessing and a curse. In moments like this one, he thinks of it more as the former. In school people would be confused if he suddenly started dodging the paper thrown at him or jumped over feet trying to trip him, but in the suit he could defend himself. Fight back like never could before, back when he really needed it- But this wasn't like that. He wasn't even faced with an enemy in the current mission.

It wasn't danger, it wasn't _that_. It was his hero, the man he was trying to impress. Peter's defenses lower but he doesn't calm. His hands and knees drop to the ground, holding him up while he breathes.  
"You good, kid?" Tony asks, weary but hurried as well. He didn't have time to sit here checking on Peter. The younger sucks in a breath and nods.  
"I'm good- I-I'm good I can get him back."

"Hey hey hey," Peter looks up to see both hands outstretched towards him in a non-threatening gesture. "eyes on me." He nods again. "Good, okay, you're done. Got it?" He can't be. He hurt, he couldn't breathe, but he had a job to do.  
"No- No Mr. Stark I gotta get him back-"  
"You're _done_. Sit back down or I call aunt May."

And that's the end of it. Peter can't risk her finding anything out, thinking he can't handle the 'internship' or worse. Peter resigns, Tony is flying off again quickly and he's left to sort out his head alone. The silver lining in the change of events is only that Peter was at least used to it; alone is how he handled himself best.

May and Ben always tried to help when things got hard. May still would, he knows. It was easier when they backed off. He needed to pace and pull his hair and breathe and their concerned faces made him too self-conscious and guilty to do so.

Shrinks don't recommend isolation, especially during bad times. They say to find people that you trust, that you love, that care about you, and let them help. Peter still, even after all these years of hearing it, can't bring himself to do so. He trusts them. He loves them, but that was the problem. How could he be expected to put the weight of his problems on people he cares about too?

He's alone for the time being though. He breaths, adjusts the mask on his face, touches his fingertips to his thumbs one at a time and counts- _one, two, three, four, one, two, three, four_ over and over again. When his pulse begins to calm he stretches his neck and his arms, pops his joints from shoulders to each finger. Then it's calm. He reminds himself in pieces where he is. What was going on. And only then does he look around to see what was going on with the rest of the teams.

He finds his way back to his phone, still filming the sky where he'd left it before. Picking it up he takes another look around to be sure no one was looking in his direction before aiming it at his face and speaking, much less enthusiastic than before. "Okay...Okay I gotta find a place to sit down now. The giant guy threw me into some crates and I freaked out on Mr. Stark a little bit and he wont let me back out so-- I guess that's it for now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ngl I'm not impressed with my writing here but I did enjoy writing it sO


End file.
